


How To Win The Ring Toss

by AuditoryCheesecake



Series: A Cheesecake's Tumblr Shorts [21]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Date At The Fair, Established Relationship, Fear of Heights, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, stuffed animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuditoryCheesecake/pseuds/AuditoryCheesecake
Summary: Dorian's got a helluva competitive streak, and Bull's got an excellent sense of timing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is in [two](http://acheesecakewrites.tumblr.com/post/148088982458/an-anon-asked-for-the-fluffiest-fluff-that-ever) seperate[ parts](http://acheesecakewrites.tumblr.com/post/148118512818/okay-swingbigdaddy-you-asked-for-it-adoribull) on tumblr, but I thought I should collect them into one place.

“It’s obviously rigged, Bull. The physics of it–”

“Don’t be such a sore loser, Kadan. I’m sure you’ll get it next time.”

“I will, thank you very much, and I am not a sore loser! I’ve been a professor of theoretical physics for longer than we’ve been dating–”

“You were definitely an adjunct for the first year–”

“A professor for _four years and eight months_ , and I can tell you that the shape of the bottles’ necks means that the rings will bounce off. It’s physics.” He turned his glare from Bull to the disinterested carnie inside the stall. “It is, isn’t it? You’ve spent plenty of time around this game, you know it’s rigged!”

“Okay, let’s go get some funnel cake, alright?” Bull put a gentle hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “Maybe shaved ice from that place down at the end of the fairway? Just to cool off a bit.”

“I don’t need cooling off, Bull, I need to win that mabari.”

“There’s plenty of other prizes you can get me, babe. Let’s leave the nice elf alone now.” 

“No, you wanted the giant pink mabari, you’re getting that Maker-damned giant pink mabari if it’s the last thing I do. Ten more rings, please.” He handed over another five-sovereign note.

Bull thought Dorian’s screwed-up scowl of concentration was adorable, of course he did, but they had a budget and it didn’t include spending thirty sovereigns or fourty-five minutes on one game.

“I have two doctorates and I will _not_ be defeated by this _game_ ,” he thought he heard Dorian mutter.

Bull motioned to the elf running the game. She blew a bubble of bright pink gum and leaned a little towards him. “Could you just… give it to him?” he asked quietly. “Just so that everyone can move on with their lives?”

The bubble popped. “Wouldn’t be fair. There’s kids watching.”

Dorian’s epic struggle had garnered some attention, it was true. The elf moved to the other side of the tent and took a five from a dark-skinned human kid, handing him a basket of rings.

Dorian’s last throw coincided with the kid’s first, and Bull hadn’t been watching closely enough to see who threw the ring that clinked around the neck of the bottle square in the center of the rig. 

The carnie looked up from her phone. Dorian and the kid both looked at her, then at each other.

“He threw it.” The kid pointed at Dorian. Dorian opened his mouth in that offended way of his. He closed it again.

The elf shrugged. She looked about as convinced as Bull was. “You wanted the pink one, right?” She pulled down the giant stuffed dog and pushed it at Dorian. It was as tall as she was. “Thanks for playing, have a nice night.”

Dorian took the dog, gave the kid a long, squinty look, and stalked away, head high. Bull followed.

 

Dorian fumed all through the funnel cake, and halfway to the cart that was selling shaved ice at the other end of the fairway. Bull knew he was done stewing when he shifted the dog under one arm and tucked his free hand into Bull’s.

“Y’know,” Bull said while they waited in line, “I kinda thought that was supposed to be for me.”

Dorian glanced at him, expression somewhere between shamefaced and stubborn. “No, this is clearly a taunt from my teenage nemesis. I’ll win _your_ giant stuffed animal next.”

“Oh, okay.” Bull moved closer to Dorian, and smiled at the way Dorian leaned toward him as well. “I still want something pink, though. Maybe a unicorn?”

“Whatever you want, Amatus.” Yeah, maybe he was used to hearing those particular words in more private contexts, but Bull couldn’t help the grin he could feel spreading across his face.

“You think they have pink dragons?” he asked. Dorian laughed.

 

They found a pink dragon. It wasn’t as big as the mabari (which Bull was carrying now) but its mouth was open and it was breathing purple flames. It was awesome.

Dorian rolled up his sleeves and surveyed the game, hands on his hips.

“So I aim the water gun at the target? That’s all?”

“Once we get enough people to start a race, yeah.” This carnie was much more enthusiastic than his coworker. “Different sections of the target light up, the more water hits the lights, the faster your balloon fills. First to pop wins any prize!” He shouted the last part out into the crowd.

“I’m not playing,” Bull told the guy when he caught his eye. He watched Dorian instead, as he settled on the little stool and turned the water gun this way and that on its stand.

He didn’t notice the kid until he slipped onto the seat next to Dorian. It was the same kid for sure. He had one of the smaller prizes from the ring toss, and he nodded casually at Bull.

Dorian’s hackles, so recently settled, fluffed up again. He extended a solemn hand to the kid. “Dorian Pavus,” he said in his third-snootiest voice.

“Aaron.” He hesitated a moment before he shook Dorian’s hand.

“Well Aaron, may the best man win.”

Dorian did not win the first round. Or the second. Aaron collected an inflatable mallet and a stuffed griffon.

The third, Dorian won by the thinnest margin. He glanced between Bull and Aaron, clearly wanting to play again.

“That’s all my cash,” Aaron said and stood up from the stool. “Good game, man.”

“You as well,” Dorian said a little faintly. He turned a presented the dragon to Bull. “I intended for that to be much more… heroic,” he admitted.

“Hey, I got my dragon, I’m happy.” Bull wrapped his arm around Dorian’s waist and steered him away from the games. “And you’re a knight in shining armor in my book, Kadan, even if some kid showed you up a little.”

“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” Dorian grumbled.

“I’m cuter, right? That’s what you’re supposed to say.”

Dorian pouted a minute more. “Yes, fine, you’re cuter.”

“Aw, so romantic. We should go on the Ferris wheel.”

Dorian dragged his feet. “You _know_ I don’t like heights,” he accused.

“It’s totally safe, Kadan. The boxes have Plexiglas on the top half.”

“Yes, boxes, that’s exactly what I want.”

Bull stopped and waited. He wasn’t going to push, of course, but it would be nice…

“Fine.” Dorian grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the line. “But don’t make me look down, and for Andraste’s sake, don’t rock the blighted thing.”

The line was long enough that Dorian’s jitters worked him all the way up and then back down by the time they climbed into the gondola. He sat down across from Bull with the giant dog next to him, legs outstretched. He leaned his head against the clear plastic and looked up at the roof.

“See any stars?” Bull asked as they started to move.

Dorian held out a hand toward him.

Carefully, Bull moved across the compartment, sliding Dorian an inch or two down the bench so he had room. Dorian leaned against him, fingers still twisted together, and sighed.

“Is it that bad?” Bull asked gently, and brushed a thumb over Dorian’s cheek.

“If I say yes, will you stay here?”

Bull snorted, then kissed him. “You really want to give me more excuses to touch you?”

“Yes,” Dorian said seriously. He pulled Bull’s arm around his shoulder and nestled closer. “Always.”

Bull looked down at Dorian’s soft grey eyes and kissed him again.

 

Dorian insisted on choosing the next ride, some demonic thing that spun in three directions at once and made Bull regret the funnel cake a lot. But Dorian loved it, and rode it twice more without him. Bull leaned on the flimsy metal fence and regained his balance, listening for Dorian’s excited whooping. He was hardly ever that loud if he thought people could hear him, and it made Bull smile.

He jogged over to Dorian before he was able to get in line for a fourth round. “Can you hold Ataashi?” he held out his pink dragon. “I’m gonna go on the Tower of Terror real quick.”

Dorian stared at him aghast. “Why in the name of the Maker would you want to do that?” His cheeks were still a little flushed from the ride.

“It’s safe, I promise. You don’t even have to watch me do it, I’ll just go once then come back here.”

“That thing is a deathtrap,” Dorian insisted. “I’m not losing you to a carnival ride.”

Bull did a good job of not laughing. “That’s really sweet, but I’ll be fine.”

“I do not trust that machine.” Dorian shook his head. “Let’s go.”

“What?” Bull caught up to him in a couple steps. Dorian’s jaw was set.

“If you’re going on that thing, then so am I.”

“You really don’t have to–”

“I want to.”

“Yeah, I don’t really believe you when you say that, Kadan.”

Dorian stopped at the end of the line. There were almost as many people as had been waiting for the Ferris wheel. “Fine. I want to be able to do the things that you like to do.” He had that stubborn line in between his eyes that meant arguing wouldn’t do much of anything. It would probably make him more determined.

“This isn’t something that’s going to come up much.” Bull tried anyway. “You don’t have to ride something this tall.”

Dorian scoffed. “That’s not what you said last night.”

 

“Hold on,” Bull told the ride operator once they’d gotten the safety harness over his horns. Dorian was quiet in the seat next to him, hands tight on the padded bars. “You can get off if you want, Dorian. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Dorian fixed him with a glare and settled more firmly into the seat. The operator shrugged and secured him too.

When Bull’s feet left the ground, Dorian’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he was breathing loudly through his nose. Bull reached over and covered his fingers with his own. Dorian grabbed at his hand.

“Hey, Kadan, I’ve got you.” Bull rubbed his thumb across Dorian’s palm, and smiled reassuringly when he opened his eyes. “Just look at me, okay? Don’t worry about anything else.”

Dorian smiled back, tightly. “I’m going to die, and it’s going to be your fault,” he told Bull.

“Yeah, I’m such an asshole, right?”

“Yes.” Dorian rolled his eyes, then seemed to think better of it. “And you know? I wouldn’t mind.”

“Mind what?” Snarky Dorian was better than terrified Dorian.

“Dying on a stupid carnival ride if you were with me.”

Was it messed up if that was one of the most romantic things someone had ever said to him? “Aw, Kadan, I wouldn’t mind dying on a carnival ride with you either.”

Dorian actually smiled at that. Bull couldn’t look away from him, because then Dorian might look down.

“I’m only half joking,” Dorian said.

“Yeah.” Bull didn’t think anyone had eyes as pretty as Dorian’s, with their soft crows-feet and bright silver.

They stopped moving up. What was a gentle breeze on the ground ruffled Dorian’s hair wildly.

“Hey Dorian, if we don’t die, do you want to get married?”

He saw Dorian’s eyes widen, and then they dropped.

 

Dorian didn’t talk for the entirety of the ride. He screamed a bit, and gripped Bull’s fingers so tight he was worried he might lose feeling in them, but he didn’t talk.

For the final drop he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, and when the safety bars unlocked he was the first one off the ride ride and back onto solid ground. Bull followed more slowly, picking up the stuffed mabari and dragon from the pile of bags and belonging at the operator’s stand.

Dorian was sitting on a bench nearby, elbows propped on his knees and face in his hands. He looked up when Bull came over.

“That thing is too tall. Tall enough for oxygen deprivation and hallucinations,” he said shakily.

“Want to go again?”

“Absolutely not. Never.”

“So, uh…”

“Wait.”

Bull waited. Dorian took a few more deep breaths.

“We didn’t die,” he finally said.

“Nope.” Bull grinned at him and handed over the giant dog. Dorian wrapped both arms around it and fixed him with a wary expression.

“You _like_ feeling like you’re about to plunge three hundred feet to your death, so I’m having trouble imagining you were making the same impulsive, adrenaline-fueled declarations that I was.”

“Nope,” Bull said again. “Only moderately impulsive.”

“And we didn’t actually die. Not that it was likely that we would.”

“Pretty unlikely,” Bull agreed.

“So…”

“So you’re wondering how impulsive I actually was.”

“Yes.” Dorian hadn’t taken his eyes from Bull’s.

“Well, you know know me, I’m not much of a planner.”

“That is such a _lie_ ,” Dorian declared.

“Yeah,” Bull grinned and dug into his pocket. “I’ve been holding onto this for six months or so. Do you want it?”

Dorian at the box in Bull’s hands, then at Bull. “We were on the Ferris wheel half an hour ago,” he said.

“Yeah, but is a romantic Ferris wheel proposal really _us_?” Bull asked.

“It could have been.” He tried to sound severe, but he was starting to smile. “If you hadn’t lost your nerve.”

“You got me there,” Bull said. “But I probably would have rocked the gondola a bit if I had done this.”

He lowered himself onto his good knee and held out the box.

“We’re not dead, Dorian. Do you want to get married?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Dorian said. “Of course I do.”


End file.
